Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

Sense and Sensibility

Key

FID

indirect

intro to FID or indirect

Chapter 1

The family of Dashwood had
long been settled in Sussex. Their estate was large, and their residence was
at Norland Park, in the centre of their property, where, for many
generations, they had lived in so respectable a manner as to engage the
general good opinion of their surrounding acquaintance. The late owner of
this estate was a single man, who lived to a very advanced age, and who for
many years of his life, had a constant companion and housekeeper in his
sister. But her death, which happened ten years before his own, produced a
great alteration in his home; for to supply her loss, he invited and
received into his house the family of his nephew Mr. Henry Dashwood, the
legal inheritor of the Norland estate, and the person to whom he intended to
bequeath it. In the society of his nephew and niece, and their children, the
old Gentleman's days were comfortably spent. His attachment to them all
increased. The constant attention of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Dashwood to his
wishes, which proceeded not merely from interest, but from goodness of
heart, gave him every degree of solid comfort which his age could receive;
and the cheerfulness of the children added a relish to his existence

By a former marriage, Mr.
Henry Dashwood had one son: by his present lady, three daughters. The son, a
steady respectable young man, was amply provided for by the fortune of his
mother, which had been large, and half of which devolved on him on his
coming of age. By his own marriage, likewise, which happened soon
afterwards, he added to his wealth. To him therefore the succession to the
Norland estate was not so really important as to his sisters; for their
fortune, independent of what might arise to them from their father's
inheriting that property, could be but small. Their mother had nothing, and
their father only seven thousand pounds in his own disposal; for the
remaining moiety of his first wife's fortune was also secured to her child,
and he had only a life-interest in it.

The old gentleman died: his
will was read, and like almost every other will, gave as much disappointment
as pleasure. He was neither so unjust, nor so ungrateful, as to leave his
estate from his nephew; — but he left it to him on such terms as
destroyed half the value of the bequest. Mr. Dashwood had wished for it more
for the sake of his wife and daughters than for himself or his son; —
but to his son, and his son's son, a child of four years old, it was
secured, in such a way, as to leave to himself no power of providing for
those who were most dear to him, and who most needed a provision by any
charge on the estate, or by any sale of its valuable woods. The whole was
tied up for the benefit of this child, who, in occasional visits with his
father and mother at Norland, had so far gained on the affections of his
uncle, by such attractions as are by no means unusual in children of two or
three years old; an imperfect articulation, an earnest desire of having his
own way, many cunning tricks, and a great deal of noise, as to outweigh all
the value of all the attention which, for years, he had received from his
niece and her daughters. He meant not to be unkind, however, and, as a mark
of his affection for the three girls, he left them a thousand pounds
a-piece.

Mr. Dashwood's
disappointment was, at first, severe; but his temper was cheerful and
sanguine; and he might reasonably hope to live many years, and by living
economically, lay by a considerable sum from the produce of an estate
already large, and capable of almost immediate improvement. But the fortune,
which had been so tardy in coming, was his only one twelvemonth. He survived
his uncle no longer; and ten thousand pounds, including the late legacies,
was all that remained for his widow and daughters.

His son was sent for as soon
as his danger was known, and to him Mr. Dashwood recommended, with all the
strength and urgency which illness could command, the interest of his
mother-in-law and sisters.

Mr. John Dashwood had not
the strong feelings of the rest of the family; but he was affected by a
recommendation of such a nature at such a time, and he promised to do every thing in his power to
make them comfortable. His father was rendered
easy by such an assurance, and Mr. John Dashwood had then leisure to
consider how much there might prudently be in his power to do for
them.

He was not an ill-disposed
young man, unless to be rather cold hearted and rather selfish is to be
ill-disposed: but he was, in general, well respected; for he conducted
himself with propriety in the discharge of his ordinary duties. Had he
married a more amiable woman, he might have been made still more respectable
than he was:—he might even have been made amiable himself; for he was
very young when he married, and very fond of his wife. But Mrs. John
Dashwood was a strong caricature of himself; — more narrow-minded and
selfish.

When he gave his promise to
his father, he meditated within
himself to increase the
fortunes of his sisters by the present of a thousand pounds a-piece. He then really thought
himself equal to it. The prospect of four thousand a-year, in addition to
his present income, besides the remaining half of his own mother's fortune,
warmed his heart, and made him feel capable of generosity. —"Yes, he would give them three
thousand pounds: it would be liberal and handsome! It would be enough to
make them completely easy. Three thousand pounds! he could spare so
considerable a sum with little inconvenience." —He thought of it all day
long, and for many days successively, and he did not repent.

No sooner was his father's
funeral over, than Mrs. John Dashwood, without sending any notice of her
intention to her mother-in-law, arrived with her child and their attendants.
No one could dispute her right to come; the house was her husband's from the
moment of his father's decease; but the indelicacy of her conduct was so
much the greater, and to a woman in Mrs. Dashwood's situation, with only
common feelings, must have been highly unpleasing; — but in HER mind
there was a sense of honor so keen, a generosity so romantic, that any
offence of the kind, by whomsoever given or received, was to her a source of
immovable disgust. Mrs. John Dashwood had never been a favourite with any of
her husband's family; but she had had no opportunity, till the present, of
shewing them with how little attention to the comfort of other people she
could act when occasion required it.

So acutely did Mrs. Dashwood
feel this ungracious behaviour, and so earnestly did she despise her
daughter-in-law for it, that, on the arrival of the latter, she would have
quitted the house for ever, had not the entreaty of her eldest girl induced
her first to reflect on the propriety of going, and her own tender love for
all her three children determined her afterwards to stay, and for their
sakes avoid a breach with their brother.

Elinor, this eldest
daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed a strength of
understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified her, though only
nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and enabled her frequently to
counteract, to the advantage of them all, that eagerness of mind in Mrs.
Dashwood which must generally have led to imprudence. She had an excellent
heart; — her disposition was affectionate, and her feelings were
strong; but she knew how to govern them: it was a knowledge which her mother
had yet to learn; and which one of her sisters had resolved never to be
taught.

Marianne's abilities were,
in many respects, quite equal to Elinor's. She was sensible and clever; but
eager in everything: her sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation. She
was generous, amiable, interesting: she was everything but prudent. The
resemblance between her and her mother was strikingly great.

Elinor saw, with concern,
the excess of her sister's sensibility; but by Mrs. Dashwood it was valued
and cherished. They encouraged each other now in the violence of their
affliction. The agony of grief which overpowered them at first, was
voluntarily renewed, was sought for, was created again and again. They gave
themselves up wholly to their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in
every reflection that could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting
consolation in future. Elinor, too, was deeply afflicted; but still she
could struggle, she could exert herself. She could consult with her brother,
could receive her sister-in-law on her arrival, and treat her with proper
attention; and could strive to rouse her mother to similar exertion, and
encourage her to similar forbearance.

Margaret, the other sister,
was a good-humored, well-disposed girl; but as she had already imbibed a
good deal of Marianne's romance, without having much of her sense, she did
not, at thirteen, bid fair to equal her sisters at a more advanced period of
life.